The Exchange
by Eosophobia-3
Summary: The three friends each recieve a gift... or is it a curse? **Before he could blink the dust had bled into his mouth and nose and then, for the three friends, the world went black.** Some Annie/Mitchell enjoy...
1. A Silent Touch

**Hi, me again! I got this idea from… well actually it just popped into my head, like most things haha! :D**

**I don't own Being Human I'm just borrowing it for my own pleasure and hopefully, your pleasure too! Its set in between series' one and two… enjoy**

**Chapter 1 – A Silent Touch**

"What time is it?"

"Almost nine".

"Bollocks!"

George snatched his glasses from the bookcase and scrambled to the door. He gave Annie a quick goodbye wave over his shoulder and darted out of the house like a crazed spaniel. Annie turned back to the kitchen sink and finished her washing up methodically, watching as the water in the sink touched her hands and then somehow evaporated instantly into the air, leaving her hands dry again.

Mitchell strolled into the kitchen quarter of an hour later with his sunglasses on and his hat pulled firmly over his tousled hair. He smiled at the ghost and settled into a chair next to the kitchen table. Annie handed him a steaming cup of coffee and sat down next to him,

"George was running late", she said and smiled whilst shaking her head.

Mitchell took a long gulp of coffee and smiled back, "I'm going to buy him an alarm clock for Christmas. Or maybe I'll just buy you a frying pan and a wooden spoon and you can hit the pan every morning", he smiled and then reconsidered, realising he would also be woken up by the ghost smashing a spoon off a frying pan, "Yeah, maybe just an alarm clock".

Annie giggled and nodded, "Check. No frying pan". She stood up and shuddered; her shoulders physically shook and she had to hold onto the chair to steady herself. Mitchell jumped to his feet and put a solid arm around Annie's shoulders, steadying her as she wobbled slightly.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Didn't you feel it?" Annie rubbed her arms and pulled her grey cardigan around herself more tightly.

Mitchell shook his head, "Feel what?"

"Like someone walked over my grave".

Mitchell cocked an eyebrow and smiled lopsidedly but Annie's face remained flat, she was deadly serious. She raised her eyebrows and straightened up, a smile spread slowly across her face,

"Never mind, it was nothing".

Mitchell held his hand at the back of her head and looked into her deep eyes, "You sure?"

Annie nodded and shook her head dismissively, "Yeah", she waved her hand, "Nothing".

Mitchell's hand lingered in Annie's hair a moment longer and then dropped back to his side, "Okay", he said, "Hey, maybe someone actually _did_ walk over your grave", he smiled mischievously and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, "I'm going out for a bit, I'll see you later".

Mitchell walked into the hall and Annie hung in the doorway to the kitchen as he put his jacket on; he saluted her and opened the door swiftly. Annie saluted him back and then he was gone, into the harsh daylight outside.

Annie stood a moment longer in the kitchen doorway and then turned and picked up the coffee mug. She was washing the mug out with far too much fairy liquid when she heard a knock at the door. _Forget you keys again Mitchell? _She thought.

Annie pulled the door open quickly only to find nobody there. She popped her head out into the street and looked left and right but there was no one in sight. As she was about to close the door she noticed a small silver box sitting on the doorstep; the sun was glinting off its shiny packaging and Annie, being the shiny-loving magpie that she was, picked it up. She closed the door behind her and carried the tiny box into the living room.

The box was a small cube, about three inches square, and it felt light in Annie's grasp, as though it didn't contain anything. She turned it over in her hand a couple of times and then removed the lid. A small cloud of brown-orange dust puffed into the air, making Annie cough, and she stuck out her tongue in disgust. The box was empty.

*****

Both Mitchell and George came home at the same time. Mitchell burst through the door looking extremely happy and George trundled in wearily behind him. Annie took their coats and the boys went into the living room whilst she made them a cup of tea. Mitchell smiled at George, who had flopped into the large chair, and pulled out something small and shimmery from his trouser pocket,

"Look what _I_ got today", Mitchell beamed as he spoke and his Irish tones draped through his words, "This woman gave it to me in the supermarket!" He held out a small box covered in shiny silver paper and George's mouth fell open,

"You- I- Did you get that out my coat pocket?" George squeaked.

Mitchell's brow creased and he shook his head, "No".

George stuttered, "But- I- There was one of those boxes in my locker at work!"

Annie entered the room with two cups of tea and she instantly froze when she saw the little box in Mitchell's hand. Both men looked at the ghost and George pointed at the box,

"Did you get one too?!" He asked Annie.

Annie nodded, her eyes fixated on the shiny trinket in the vampire's hand.

George swallowed hard and his eyes widened. He started to gesture frantically to the door, "Quick! Throw it outside, it might be a bomb!"

Mitchell rolled his hazel eyes, "George, chill. I already opened it and there was nothing in it apart from-"

"-dust", Annie interrupted.

Mitchell turned slowly to look at the ghost and he nodded, "Yeah, dust. How did you know?"

"Because I got one too", she frowned and handed the boys their tea, "Someone knocked on the door but when I answered there was only the box", she disappeared for a moment and returned with the tiny silver case, she held it out as though it was made of something dangerous, radioactive, "When I opened it there was this weird brown smoky stuff that kind of smelt like wood".

Mitchell placed his box on the far end of the couch and leaned away from it, "The dust was white in mine. And it smelt of nothing, it felt kind of like static in my nose though", he turned to George, "What about yours? What was in it?"

George took a sip of tea and shook his head, "I didn't open it".

Mitchell gestured to George's jacket in the hall, "Well go and get it then".

"What? No!" George shook his head firmly until his glasses slid down to the end of his nose, "I don't want to be poisoned".

"_We're_ not poisoned", Annie pointed between herself and Mitchell.

George huffed, "Yes, but you're both dead. And anyway, it could be _anything_ in that dust! Anthrax or something!"

Mitchell scoffed, "It's not Anthrax George, we're not at war. And ours were different colours, its probably just some promotional thing; everyone in the street probably got one".

George's face crumpled and his voice rose an octave, "Oh yes, I hear it's the _in_ thing now. Instead of leaflets or free samples, companies are giving away little boxes of poisonous dust! No thank you!"

Annie "popped" into the hallway and reappeared with a third shiny box. George raised his hands and pushed his glasses onto the bridge of his nose,

"No Annie! I'm not touching that bloody thing!"

Annie smiled, "I know. I'll open it. I mean I'm dead right? What can it do to me?"

She carefully removed the lid and a puff of red smoked drifted lazily out of it. It smelt like copper.

"See", said Mitchell, "It's nothing".

The smoke hung in the air a moment longer and then darted across the room towards George. Before he could blink the dust had bled into his mouth and nose and then, for the three friends, the world went black.

**Thanks for reading!**

**Please review!**

**This story has an idea of mine behind it that I'm really excited about :)**

**I'll be adding more chapters soon**


	2. Consequences

**Chapter 2 – Consequences**

Blackness. Only blackness. A faint, shadow of life in the distance. The quiet hush of breath, of blood, of life.

George's eyes fluttered open drowsily. Everything seemed too bright, too sharp and in focus. He squinted into the stretch of room in front of him. He was lying on the wooden floor of the living room and the morning sun had started to drift in through the window, giving everything a soft, peachy glow. He felt itchy and tired and oh so thirsty.

*****

Smells, sounds, muscles moving inside of her that she'd never felt before. Echoes of speech a mile away and the stench of days old rubbish.

Annie opened her eyes to find herself sitting against the wall, her legs spread out in front of her like two dead animals. Her head ached and her nostrils burned with the smell of sweat and something that smelt like putrid fruit. She glanced towards George who lay motionless on the floor and scrunched up her nose as the dust unsettled around his feet, pushing a new smell into the air.

*****

Nothing. Simply nothing. No air, no heat, no touch. Not even the feeling of solid earth beneath his body.

Mitchell stared up at the ceiling for a moment while the rest of his body caught up with his brain. He felt cold but not cold. Like he needed to shiver but couldn't. His clothes left no feeling against his skin and his entire body felt as though it was in a cloud of thick fog, something preventing him from reaching out to the rest of the world.

*****

George sat up slowly and glanced towards Annie who was sitting in the corner of the room. She caught his eye and crawled over to him on her hands and knees,

"George! Are you okay?" She placed a warm hand on his shoulder as he got to his feet.

"Yeah", he rubbed his neck, "Just a bit groggy. What the hell happened?"

Annie bit her lip and shrugged, "I don't know. But I think it had something to do with that dust stuff".

"Oh yes", George smiled a sickly sweet smile, "The dust which I said we shouldn't touch".

Annie looked up at him through thick lashes, "Sorry".

He sighed, "It's alright. Where the bloody hell is Mitchell?"

"Mitchell!" Annie called out and then turned to George, "George? Do you feel, um, weird? Like not yourself?"

George scratched the side of his face and nodded, "Yeah. I feel itchy and my throat, God, its _burning_".

Annie frowned and they both made their way up the stairs towards Mitchell's room. Annie pushed open the door gently only to find the room empty. George gestured to the spare room and they walked down the hallway and into the unused room. There Mitchell lay face-up on the floor like one of those dead animal rugs. He turned his head towards them and spoke quietly,

"Something's wrong".

*****

Annie flicked the kettle on as the boys stood in the kitchen. George was drinking his second glass of water and Mitchell was staring at the floor, deep in thought.

Annie handed them their tea and they each took their cups. George swallowed his in three huge gulps and Mitchell's eyes widened as he watched his friend,

"You okay George?"

He nodded, "Mhmm. I think that dust got in my throat".

"What the hell _was_ that stuff anyway?" asked Annie.

"I don't know", Mitchell frowned deeply and took a sip of his tea. Except he didn't. He put the cup to his mouth and poured the liquid in but it didn't touch his tongue. Instead it seemed to evaporate instantly in the space between his lips and the cup. He froze and stared at the cup and then tried again. Nothing.

"Jesus!" He dropped the cup, sending hot tea splashing across the kitchen floor.

George squeaked and Annie spun around to see Mitchell with a look of horror etched into his features. Mitchell swallowed and stared at the broken cup with wide, terrified eyes.

Annie stepped towards him and reached out her hand, "Mitchell? What happened? What's wrong?"

His eyes drifted slowly to Annie's and his mouth opened and closed a few times before he could speak, "I- I couldn't drink it".

Annie folded her arms, "Oh, come on, it's not _that_ bad".

Mitchell shook his head and scrunched his eyes closed. When he opened them again they were deadly serious, "No Annie. I _couldn't_ drink it. It just _disappeared_ before I got it in my mouth!"

"What?" George stepped closer to his friends and tried to peer into Mitchell's mouth. Mitchell pushed him away and slammed his mouth shut,

"It must have something to do with that dust".

"Maybe it only affects vampires?" Annie said.

George took his glasses off and cleaned them before replacing them firmly back onto his nose, "But you said you felt weird too Annie, right? Maybe it's done something to all of us".

"I don't- I-", Annie raised her hand to her mouth and covered her nose, "I'm sorry George but is that _you_?"

"What?" George squeaked, and smelt his shirt, "It most certainly is not!"

"Well what the hell is it?" She turned to Mitchell, "Can you smell it? It smells like, I don't know, acid or something".

Mitchell shook his head, his eyes seemed glazed, "I can't smell anything".

Annie hung her tongue over her bottom lip and gagged, "I've never smelt anything like it. Eurgh".

George tutted loudly, "Well you're not exactly a basket of roses Annie. You smell like wet dog".

"Wet _dog_?!" Annie shoved her hands onto her hips and pursed her full lips, "For your information George, ghosts don't smell of _anything_!"

George scoffed, "Well _you_ do".

Mitchell raised his hands and they stopped arguing. The look on Mitchell's face alone was enough to stop them dead. He rubbed his face with his hands and looked at George,

"Did you say she smelt of wet _dog_?"

George nodded, "Yeah, she stinks of it!"

Annie's mouth opened but she snapped it shut as Mitchell turned to her,

"And you can smell like an acidy sort of smell?"

Annie nodded, "Yeah. And something else. Like something I can't _smell_ exactly, but I can _feel_. It's tingly".

Mitchell closed his eyes briefly and then opened them and looked at his friends with utter confusion, "This is bad".

**Thanks for reading!**

**Please review!**

**You've probably guessed what's going on by now but please don't put it in your review just in case someone reads it who hasn't guessed what's going on… thanks :)**

**More chapters soon**


	3. New Roles

**Chapter 3 – New Roles**

George gaped at his friend. He'd understood what he'd said but it just wasn't processing in his brain. He cleared his sore throat and turned to Mitchell, "So what you're saying is that we've what? Swapped?"

Mitchell nodded gravely, "I think so. Or we've been made into something… new".

Annie leaned back against the sink, she placed her hand on her chest and her brown eyes widened, "Oh God", she looked at Mitchell as tears dropped from her eyes and a smile spread across her face, "I can feel my heartbeat".

Mitchell smiled weakly at his friend and placed a gloved hand on his own chest. Nothing. Only the odd sensation of not actually touching his chest, of touching air.

George looked between them and copied their gestures; he rested his palm against his chest firmly and waited for a moment. He moved his hand around a little and gasped loudly, "Oh God! I'm dead! I'm a ghost!"

Annie blinked rapidly and moved towards George, he looked into her eyes with panic in his own and tears began to well up behind his glasses. He blinked and a few tears slid down his cheeks,

"I am aren't I? I'm a bloody ghost!"

Annie touched his hand and frowned, "No. I don't think you are. Mitchell said that when he kis- when he _touched_ me, I felt sort of cold and tingly. And you feel fine. Well, a bit cold but definitely not tingly", she smiled and George smiled back, reassured that he wasn't dead. His face suddenly fell and he turned pale,

"But I don't have a heartbeat. So I _am_ dead. So that must mean I'm a- Oh God no", he slid down the wall and let his head fall into his hands as more tears bled down his face.

Annie turned to Mitchell who was standing with his hands out. He was staring at his palms as though he'd never seen them before and he looked deathly pale, almost transparent. Annie walked over to him and smiled. She tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear and forced him to look into her eyes,

"Mitchell", he looked, "Are you alright? Do _you_ have a heartbeat too?"

He shook his head and shrugged, "Nope. Still dead as a dodo I'm afraid".

Annie took his hand and gasped; it was cold and made the hairs on her arms stand on end, his skin felt like she was touching a television screen or the air inside of a freezer. She traced the veins in his palm and he closed his fingers around her hand. Annie frowned and bit her bottom lip,

"So if you're a ghost and George is a vampire that means I'm the werewolf right?"

Mitchell's grip on Annie's hand tightened for a moment and he lowered his head, frowning deeply, "We'll find a way to fix this Annie, I promise".

Annie pressed her lips together and looked at the ceiling, forcing back tears, "The one chance I get at being alive and I'm a werewolf. Great".

Mitchell sighed and rested his forehead against Annie's. George made a muffled sobbing sound as he sat, curled in a ball, against the wall. Mitchell walked over to him and hunkered down next to him,

"George?" Mitchell touched George's back and he looked up with red rimmed eyes, "We're going to fix this".

George nodded and got to his feet. He rubbed his eyes and straightened his glasses before speaking in a groggy voice, "My name is George. And I am a vampire".

*****

The three friends sat in the living room staring at the blank face of the television screen. Annie kept placing her hand on her chest and George was continuously running his tongue along his top row of teeth. Mitchell looked at George and rolled his eyes,

"You're not going to find any".

George stopped and his face slackened, "Any what?"

"Fangs", Mitchell replied, "They only descend when you're making a kill or trying to scare the shit out of someone".

George shuddered.

"Oh. My. God", Annie jumped to her feet and dashed into the kitchen. Mitchell heard the quiet click of the kettle and the faint sound of the water boiling and then watched as Annie returned with two mugs of tea. She handed one to George and held the other one out to Mitchell before realising her mistake. She sat down on the sofa and took a deep breath. Then she slowly put the cup to her lips and took a sip of steaming hot tea. She smiled and looked at Mitchell in amazement,

"Wow. You have no idea how good that tastes", she took another gulp of the liquid and spoke again, "And I haven't forgotten how to drink it! I'm not dribbling it down my chin or anything!"

Mitchell gave her a thumbs-up and spoke solemnly, "I hear it's like riding a bike. You never forget how to drink a cup of tea".

"Eurgh", George's face scrunched up as he sipped his tea and he placed the cup down on the floor, "It doesn't taste right". He turned to Mitchell, "Can we figure out how to change back to normal now please".

Mitchell nodded and got to his feet, "Yeah. I think I should track down that woman in the supermarket. Maybe she was the one who gave us _all_ the boxes". He walked into the hall and grabbed his jacket and tried to put it on. He tried to loop his arm into the sleeve but his arm just fell straight through it and the jacket ended up on the floor. He groaned and looked at Annie,

"Well, at least I wasn't wearing my pyjamas".

**Thanks for reading!**

**Please review :)**

**I'm going to bed now… maybe more chapters tomorrow :D**


	4. If At First You Don't Succeed

**Chapter 4 – If At First You Don't Succeed…**

Mitchell had left the house about half an hour ago. George was sitting in the living room on the couch; his throat was burning and his eyes felt sore. Also, when he moved, even slightly, into the sunlight pouring in through the window his skin started to feel itchy and tight. He really hated being a vampire.

Annie meanwhile was in the bathroom. She'd taken a shower, just feeling the water on her skin was like heaven; it felt warm and wet and _real_. After the shower she'd brushed her hair with Mitchell's somewhat unused comb and finally she'd brushed her teeth. When she'd been alive (well, the _first_ time she'd been alive) she'd hated the taste of toothpaste, it always made her feel sick, but now she loved it; the minty sensation on her tongue was indescribable and, for the first time in almost two years, she felt _clean_.

After brushing her teeth Annie walked into George's room and opened the wardrobe. She smiled as she ran her hand along some of Nina's clothes and, hoping that Nina wouldn't mind, she tried on a few different outfits. The way the material hung on her body was fabulous; she felt truly alive, even more so than when she'd actually _been_ alive. After a few shirts and pairs of jeans she settled with a thigh – length green skirt and a yellow vest top that accentuated her cleavage. Annie looked at herself in the mirror and smiled as she ran her hands down her hips and thighs, _wow_ she thought. And then her stomach rumbled.

"Oh my gosh!" Annie squealed as she ran into the living room waving her arms in the air like a crazy person.

George stood up with a look of shock on his face and his eyes opened wide, "What?! Er, are they _Nina's_ clothes?"

"Yes!" Annie's smile widened, "George! I'm hungry!"

George's shoulders sagged and he sighed loudly, "Bloody hell Annie I thought something had happened!"

Annie's smile remained and she nodded quickly, "It has!"

"Being hungry is not _something_ Annie. It's normal".

She rolled her eyes, "Normal for _you_ maybe but I haven't felt hunger in over a year! What shall I make? Oh! I could make a Sunday lunch or maybe a curry, what do you want?"

"Nothing", George flopped back onto the couch.

Annie's nose scrunched up as she spoke, "But I could make you something, it's almost lunch time. I could make boiled ham or beans on toast or-"

"-I don't want _anything_ Annie!" George stood up as he shouted and his eyes seemed to darken slightly. Annie stepped back, slightly scared, and raised her hands, palms out,

"Okay, okay. I'll just make _me_ something".

Annie wandered into the kitchen and started to get the cooking equipment out whilst George stood in the living room breathing heavily. He felt strange; the pain in his throat was almost unbearable and he felt angry and agitated. Even Annie, with her kind words and offer to make him lunch, had grated on his nerves. He slumped back onto the couch and held his head in his hands, _hurry up Mitchell_ he thought.

*****

Mitchell stood in the middle of the cornflakes isle in Tesco with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the floor. He'd tried to ask one of the shelf-stackers if they'd seen the woman that had given him the shiny box but the guy had just looked straight through him, _literally._

The woman that had given him the small silver box had been about thirty five, with short blonde hair and a body to die for. That was actually the reason he'd taken the box; she was hot and said that it was a gift and, being Mitchell, he'd taken the box in the hope for something more. _Well, there _was_ more wasn't there?_ He thought to himself.

He turned out of the shop and started to walk up the street, back towards Windsor Terrace. He saw a drop of rain fall onto the path in front of him, then more and more droplets started to fall. He looked up into the darkening sky and shuddered, not because he was cold but because he couldn't feel the rain; it just dropped straight through him and left no trace of even being near him. "I preferred gettin' wet", he muttered to himself.

When Mitchell finally arrived at the pink house he pushed open the door, only to fall right through it as though it wasn't there. He flopped clumsily onto the black and white tiles in the hallway and lay there for a moment feeling like a complete clown. As he got to his feet he looked around warily. The house was eerily quiet; only the sound of the groaning plumbing cut across the overwhelming lack of sound.

"Annie? George?"

He heard a muffled thud upstairs and found himself instantly in his bedroom, "Whoa", he said. He rocked slightly on his feet and his head spun a little. Annie stood beside him with a drawn look etched into her features. Mitchell placed a cool hand on her bare arm and frowned,

"What's wrong? Where's George?" he asked.

Annie threaded a loose piece of hair behind her ear and crossed her bare arms across her chest, "He's- he's gone".

Mitchell dropped his hand from her arm and stepped back, "Gone where?"

Annie shrugged silently.

"He's probably gone to see Nina", Mitchell said as he plonked onto the bed, Annie sat beside him.

Annie's eyes widened as Mitchell's words sunk in, her hand slapped to her mouth and she gasped, "You don't think he has do you? He wouldn't go to _Nina_?!"

"Why not? He probably has", Mitchell's expression changed as he took in Annie's terrified eyes, "What? Annie, what-"

"He looked angry before. And then, when I was making lunch he shouted at me", she dropped her eyes and started to fiddle with the hem of her skirt, "His eyes were… dark".

Mitchell's jaw locked and he ran his cool hands through his tousled hair, "We have to find him".

*****

Both Annie and Mitchell ran down the stairs, Annie grabbed Mitchell's jacket as they stormed past the coat hanger, and then opened the front door, ready to track down their friend.

As Annie pulled open the door Nina almost fell on top of her. Leaning against Nina's shoulder was George, they were both dripping wet and Nina looked annoyed. She dropped George onto the couch and ushered Mitchell and Annie into the kitchen.

"What the hell is going on?" Nina's voice was a harsh whisper, "I found George in the hospital where we keep the blood, he was _sniffing_ it!"

Annie screwed up her face and Mitchell's shoulders relaxed; he sat down in the chair next to the kitchen table,

"Thank Christ for that", he said.

Nina shoved her hands onto her hips, "Well, I'm glad you're so relieved! Now will someone tell me what the fuck is going on here!"

Annie explained to Nina what had happened and Nina sat down. She was shocked but not overwhelmed; she understood that this kind of thing happened to them all the time.

Annie took George a cup of coffee and he sat up on the couch, he looked exhausted and confused as he took the cup from her,

"Did I-", he swallowed thickly, "Did I hurt anyone?"

Annie smiled and sat down next to her friend, placing a warm hand on his shoulder, "No. You were amazing. You didn't even try to bite anyone!" she smiled and George smiled back with tired eyes.

"Why did _I_ have to be the vampire?" George groaned as Mitchell and Nina entered the living room.

Mitchell scowled and pointed a gloved finger at him, "Hey!"

Nina rolled her eyes and sat on the other side of her man.

Mitchell loped over to the chair and sat down heavily. He closed his eyes and began to relax. Suddenly his eyes shot open and darted towards Annie,

"What's the date?"

Annie's mouth curled up at one side and she shrugged, "I dunno, why?"

Mitchell vanished into the kitchen a moment and then reappeared in front of the sofa, causing George to jump slightly. Mitchell dragged his hand down his face and spoke in a grave tone,

"Tomorrow's the full moon".

**Thanks for reading!**

**Please review!**

**More chapters ASAP :)**


	5. The First Change

**Hi, I realise I haven't written for this in aaages (thanks for reminding me MOTHERNATURES EVI , its actually really nice to know that people are waiting for my stories :D) so I'm going to try and add a little more at least once a week. I've been starting other stories and then getting new ideas (my brain is very hectic)… okay, so here it goes… enjoy :)**

**Chapter 5 – The First Change**

The sun bled through Mitchell's curtains like thin fingers reaching towards him; he'd been awake all night, he didn't feel like sleeping somehow, he hadn't felt tired since he'd become a ghost. He "popped" into the kitchen (he was starting to get good at moving around without walking) and oddly, Annie wasn't there.

"She's still in her room", George's tired voice drifted in from the living room and Mitchell sauntered in and sat on the chair. George was flopped on the couch, his face looked drawn and his eyes seemed even darker than yesterday.

Mitchell squinted at his friend.

"What?" George's eyes rolled lazily towards the former vampire.

Mitchell leaned forwards, "When was the last time you ate something?"

George's eyes widened and his mouth fell open, "Mitchell! I'm not eating _anything!_ I'm not a murderer!"

Mitchell looked confused for a moment and then his mouth curled up in a lopsided grin, "I meant _food _food, like a sandwich or something".

George's face relaxed, "Oh. I dunno. I don't feel hungry, just…" he trailed off.

"Thirsty", Mitchell finished.

George's eyes dropped to the floor and his lips pressed together in a tight line, he nodded.

"You could always get something from the hospital. You were going to last night anyway", Mitchell raised his eyebrows expectantly.

George's mouth pulled down into a disgusted grimace, "I can't! I mean that's just sick! Jesus Mitchell!"

Mitchell raised his hands in surrender, "Okay, okay. I was just trying to help", he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes before adding, "And that's racist".

"What?"

"You said it was sick, what I do, what I _used_ to do", a smile played at the corners of Mitchell's mouth but he pressed his lips together to stop himself.

"Shut up", George was smiling now, he relaxed a little and looked up as Annie plodded down the stairs.

She looked even worse than George; her hair was tousled by sleep and she hadn't bothered to brush it, she had dark circles under her eyes and her lips looked dry and sore. She smiled weakly at the boys before trudging into the kitchen.

The vampire and the ghost followed Annie into the kitchen; Mitchell leaned against the wall and George sat down at the table. Annie clicked on the kettle and Mitchell spoke up,

"Hey, how're you feeling?"

Annie turned around with a very forced smiled spread across her face, "Fine. Great".

George looked at Mitchell and then towards Annie, "You're going to be okay Annie, we're going to make sure you're okay".

Annie let her head drop and a single tear dripped to the floor, "I'm so scared".

Mitchell stepped forward and wrapped a cold arm around her shoulders, she leant her head against his chest and he kissed the top of her head firmly. When they finally let eachother go Mitchell wiped the tears from her face and George stood up,

"We're going to fix this Annie, it's not fair that you have to change!" George's eyes seemed to get darker and his hands balled into fists, "For fuck's sake! I hate this! We should find that bitch that gave us the boxes and rip her throat out!"

Both Annie and Mitchell stood facing George with wide eyes and open mouths, Annie even stepped back a little and Mitchell positioned himself in front of her protectively. George looked at them through black eyes; he felt as though all he wanted to do was _hit_ something, _hurt_ something, _kill_ something. As quickly as it had come, the rage subsided and he blinked a few times before realising what he must look like.

"Oh God", George's voice was weak and he dragged his hands down his face, "I'm so sorry".

Annie stepped around Mitchell and reached out a hand for George, he took it and Annie smiled, "It's going to be okay", she turned to Mitchell, "Right?"

Mitchell nodded, "Sure".

It was half past seven, there was an hour to go until the moon would rise and Mitchell was starting to panic. He'd been out to the supermarket again to look for the blonde woman but she hadn't been there; he'd even been able to ask someone if they'd seen her but nobody could even remember that. He was starting to think that maybe this was how life was going to be from now on; the three of them would just have to get used to the idea of being something new, something different.

George stepped into the living room where Annie and Mitchell were sitting on the sofa, he had his head down and his entire frame seemed to be trembling slightly. Mitchell looked up at him,

"What's wrong?"

George cleared his throat, "I er, I think I, maybe I should…" he looked at his friends and wet his lips with his tongue, "I feel really weird and I think maybe I should _drink _something".

Annie frowned but Mitchell understood what his friend was asking. He stood up, "I'll be back in a sec".

Mitchell vanished from sight and reappeared a few minutes later with two bags of deep red blood. Annie bit her lip and looked towards George. He looked like he was about to throw up but he took the squishy clear bag from Mitchell and rested it in his open hand.

Mitchell stepped towards his friend and gestured to the blood, "Its okay if you do this, we won't judge, I mean hell, it looks _good_!" Mitchell smiled widely but stopped when he saw the disapproving look on Annie's face.

George looked at Mitchell and swallowed hard. He nodded as Mitchell took the blood from George's hand and handed it to Annie,

"Annie, could you put it in a cup? And it's probably better if we heat it up".

Annie nodded and went into the kitchen. George listened to the ping of the microwave and his stomach churned; he could smell the warm blood and it made him so _thirsty_, he just wanted to drink it _now_, his throat burned with the need for the thick substance and his mouth watered just thinking about it.

Suddenly a loud smash erupted from the kitchen followed by a sharp gasp. George and Mitchell raced across the black and white tiles and into the kitchen to find what looked like a murder scene. There were pieces of broken white mug everywhere and intermingling with that was the deep red blood that it had been holding. The blood was drying in places and in others it was running under the cupboards and around the chair legs.

Annie was slumped in the corner of the room holding her chest tightly; she looked pale and her breath was coming in short gasps. Mitchell rushed over to her and knelt down beside her, he curled a cold hand behind her head,

"Annie?"

She moaned and her back arched painfully, "I- I think it's started", she gasped.

**Thanks for reading!**

**Please review!**

**More chapters as soon as I can :)**


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